


Of college papers, granola bars and cinnamon buns

by beesandlisterine



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Domestic Fluff, Figs, Fluff, Food, M/M, Romantic Fluff, pure fluff, really nothing happens its just them enjoying life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:49:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28905135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beesandlisterine/pseuds/beesandlisterine
Summary: Prompt: Patroclus falls asleep in Achilles's lap and Achilles has a conversation with someone else while stroking Patroclus's hair as if they were a sleeping cat.
Relationships: Achilles/Patroclus (Song of Achilles)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 168





	Of college papers, granola bars and cinnamon buns

It had been a long day. Patroclus struggled to find the right key to his apartment, but managed to unlock the door after a lot of fumbling. Walking upstairs, he checked his phone for any messages, but the only notification on the display was a text from Briseis, who had sent him a picture. Figuring that it was probably a meme or a picture of a kitten, Patroclus decided that he would open the text later. He had reached his apartment and was about to open the door, when his phone buzzed. Startled, Patroclus dropped his keys and looked at the screen. It showed an incoming call from Achilles. Picking up his keys, Patroclus answered the call.

“ _Patroclus!_ ”

Achilles had always preferred addressing Patroclus by his full name, and he never missed a chance to use it. To Patroclus, a simple “Hello” would have been enough, but he didn’t mind. He liked his name, and it was nice to have somebody reminding him that it was more special than “Pat”, which is what most people called him.

“Hey, what’s on your mind?” Patroclus answered, finally turning the key and stepping into his apartment.

“ _I’m going grocery shopping after class, do we need anything that’s not on the list we wrote this morning?_ ”

Patroclus opened the fridge, scanning for anything that was missing.

“Maybe some fruit and yogurt, I think I ate the last pomegranate this morning,” he mumbled. Achilles was repeating the foods Patroclus had listed, probably scribbling them down.

“ _Anything else? Do we still have enough coffee grounds?_ ”

“I’m not fueling your caffeine addiction, Achilles. Maybe not having four espresso shots a day is not as bad as it seems,” Patroclus laughed, shaking his head. 

“ _Lies. I’ll get some anyway, just to be sure. Do you want oat or almond milk?_ ”

“Almond, I just got a raise at the café, I’d like to feel like we can afford that extra quid for once.”

Achilles chuckled, blew a kiss through the phone speaker and they hung up.

Grabbing a carton of orange juice and Achilles’ last granola bar, Patroclus waddled into the living room to finish the paper he had been working on. He opened his laptop and dove into Organic Chemistry.

Patroclus wasn’t sure how long he had been working on his paper, but he got interrupted by Achilles entering the apartment, carrying a bag full of groceries to the kitchen. He was followed by Briseis, which reminded Patroclus to open her text. It was, in fact, neither a meme nor a kitten, but instead a picture of his boyfriend in class, doodling succulents instead of taking notes. Patroclus smiled at the picture, then looked up to face Briseis and Achilles, who had returned from the kitchen.

“Briseis is proofreading my Latin essay, I invited her to stay for dinner if you don’t mind?” Achilles smiled at Patroclus.

“Yeah, sure thing.” He rubbed his face, and, with one final glance at his paper, closed his laptop. Achilles gently pushed him to the side and took a seat on the couch, and, almost immediately, Patroclus rested his head in Achilles’ lap.

“You okay?” Achilles asked, booping Patroclus’ nose. He smiled.

“Yeah. I mean, I’m convinced my Chemistry professor is secretly plotting to rob me of all joy in life, but that’s just Chemistry, I guess.”

Briseis got comfortable in the armchair that was standing next to the small couch and reached out for Achilles’ bag.

“Where’s that essay? I don’t want to wait until I’ve run out of brain capacity for today,” she said, still not able to reach the bag. Achilles grabbed it and pulled out a few sheets of paper that were being held together by a paper clip and handed them to Briseis.

“Can I go all professor-mode and add annotations with red ink? Maybe throw in some question marks along the way?”

“You’re way too excited about this, I’m starting to regret asking you to read it,” Achilles said, digging through his bag until he found his red pen. “I’d highly appreciate comments I can actually work with, though. Not just question marks,” he added. Absentmindedly, he started stroking through Patroclus’ hair. For a few minutes, the three of them sat in silence, Briseis reading through the essay and Patroclus slowly falling asleep in Achilles’ lap. Eventually, Achilles broke the silence.

“I want a fig.”

Briseis gave him a funny look.

“So go and get one, they’re right there in the kitchen,” she replied, turning back to the essay. Achilles, however, was not satisfied with this answer.

“I would, but I can’t,” he said, looking down at Patroclus and running his hand through his hair. Briseis groaned.

“Fine, I’m getting the figs.” She stood up from her seat, glaring at Achilles, who blew her a kiss and smiled nonchalantly.

A moment later, Briseis returned, carrying a bowl of figs and a paring knife.

“You’re the best,” Achilles said, reaching for a fig and slicing it into quarters. He pressed a soft kiss onto Patroclus’ forehead and held one of the slices to his lips.

“Fig?” he asked, gently stroking his boyfriend’s face to wake him up. Patroclus hummed in agreement and opened his mouth, carefully avoiding to choke on the fig he was now chewing on. Achilles, who had already finished the rest of the fig, briefly kissed Patroclus on the lips.

“Achilles, I have a confession to make,” Patroclus said, still sounding a little tired. Achilles tilted his head and looked at him expectantly.

“I ate your last granola bar.”

Achilles’ eyes widened.

“You wouldn’t!”

“I’m sorry,” Patroclus said, chuckling a little.

“You know, I brought you a cinnamon bun, but now that I’m thinking about it, I think you don’t deserve it.” Achilles shook his head in disbelief.

“You love me though, right?” Patroclus gave Achilles his best attempt of an innocent smile.

“We’ll see about that.”

  
  



End file.
